


Preston is Gay

by hasa_diga_quicheowai



Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: Coming Out, dealing with idiots and emotions, theatre references constantly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-25
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2018-12-06 19:49:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 8,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11607753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hasa_diga_quicheowai/pseuds/hasa_diga_quicheowai
Summary: Preston is gay, and no one is quite sure what to make of that.





	1. Preston

**Author's Note:**

> Who can catch all the theatre references in this chapter?
> 
> I couldn't get this idea out of my head, so here it is! Enjoy.

Preston takes a deep breath as he surveys the room. It's a surprisingly quiet day at Camp Campbell- no one’s hurt or screaming or having a fabulous adventure, for once. It's peaceful. Depending on how the counselors and campers react, he knows he could screw all that up. Preston has never been good at predicting the emotions of others. Hopefully the relief will be worth it all.

A stab of doubt shoots through Preston, and before he can back out, he clears his throat, trying to demand attention. “Ahem, everybody! If I could have your attention?”

No one even spares Preston a sideways glance. Nerris continues to argue with Harrison, Nurf torments Space Kid, Ered listens to music, Dolph draws, the counselors try to separate Nerris and Harrison, and Max, Nikki, and Neil are doing whatever the fuck it is that they're always doing. Preston usually doesn't care about what these simpletons do, but he's trying to say something important, goddamnit! He deserves at least a shred of respect!

“EVERYONE! SHUT THE HELL UP!” That does the trick. Everyone stops talking. Ered even takes out an earbud. “Now, I have something to say, and all of you need to know what it is.” Preston pauses dramatically and lets his eyes pass over everybody in the room before he goes on. The Quartermaster is here. When did he get here? The room is spinning. When did it start spinning?

“I'm gay!” Preston has only a moment to gauge their reactions. It's mostly shock or surprise. The Quartermaster grunts, his expression unchanged. Then David straightens up and puts his hands on his hips, and _God_ , suddenly it's all so _real_.

“That'll be all! Thank you for your cooperation.” Preston whips around and practically runs out the big oak doors, trying to keep his cool and look poised and perfect and dignified. But how can he when his whole life is about to fall apart and he can't breathe and no one will ever take him seriously again and he'll never make it to Broadway and Nurf is gonna hurt him and he's _scared, so scared_?

So he runs, and doesn't look back. He doesn't know where he's going or what he wants. He doesn't want to be found, and that's why he passes by the makeshift theatre camp. That'd be the first place anybody would look for him, after all.

Running eventually gets tiring, and the most exercise Preston has ever done is dancing along to the _Newsies_ recording. It's just as well that he's exhausted this easily, though. If he'd gone any farther, he would have ended up in the deep woods and been eaten by bears or something. As it was, this was a nice, small, secluded part of the woods where no one would think to look for him.

Shakily, Preston pulls out the _Spring Awakening_ monologue he's been practicing. Perhaps he should be working on singing or dancing or writing, but acting is an easy fallback. And he's good at it.

“To be frank with you, Melchior, I've had exactly that feeling since I read your paper.” Preston gets into character readily and trades in his own problems for a fictional character’s. It's its own form of escapism, really, but healthier than Gwen’s Twilight or Sherlock obsession. It's so easy to get lost in a role, enveloped by the stage, that you need to keep a sense and awareness of yourself and your surroundings to be true to thine own self and succeed.

Gwen, he fears, has given up. She's let herself go.

But no matter how terrified Preston is, he'll never let that happen to him. He will fight and scratch and claw. He will make himself heard, make himself known, and not let anybody intimidate him, anytime. He will not be scared into submission.

Except for today. Today, he can be weak. Today, he can fall apart. 


	2. The Quartermaster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gay or straight, black or white, male or female, it's all the same to the Quartermaster. He'll still murder you within ten seconds and feel absolutely no remorse for his actions.

Preston isn't sure how much time has passed (wearing a watch would ruin his Shakespearean aesthetic), but eventually he puts down the monologue and leans against a tree to think. He's had some time to clear his head and sort out his thoughts, and while his heart still pounds and he feels slightly nauseous when he imagines facing certain campers, he's ready to go back.

The only problem is, Preston has no idea where he is, and it's getting dark.

He tries to remember what David and Gwen said to do if you got lost. Stay put and yell for help? Forage for food, water, and shelter? Create your own communist society that slowly warps into fascism? Preston settles for for humming _Phantom of the Opera_ to himself and closing his eyes.

He's halfway through _Angel of Music_ and well on his way to falling asleep when a rustle in the nearby plants jolts him awake. Preston drags his knees up to his chest and abruptly stops humming. The smaller and quieter he is, the less likely the creature is to take note of him. His breath is bated while he prays in vain for whatever is coming his way to turn back.

Without warning, the bushes on Preston’s right part and the Quartermaster steps through them. Preston screams and throws a hand over his forehead.

“You're coming back to the cabin,” the Quartermaster says shortly, and starts walking away. Preston scrambles to his feet and shoves the monologue into his pocket, anxious to get back to civilization, however hostile it may be.

It's a quiet walk to the cabin. Preston certainly is not about to engage the Quartermaster in conversation. He was horrifying enough even before he made out with his sister. Although the two were very romantic and heartfelt. Preston could totally make a play based on that relationship.

Lost in thought, Preston doesn't realize that they've arrived at their destination until he smacks into the flagpole.

“We're here,” the Quartermaster says in a monotone. He'd be a terrible actor, Preston muses. Actors need powerful emotions! Strong voices and strong hearts and strong muscles! Admittedly, the Quartermaster could snap Preston in half without breaking a sweat, but emotions overrule physical strength in the theatre.

Preston snaps out of it and coughs into his hand. “Ah, thank you, Quartermaster.”

He receives a grunt and mutter in return, and can hear the Quartermaster trudging back into the forest. The next part is all up to Preston. The tall doors loom over him, menacing. He knows David would rather kill himself than hurt a camper, and Gwen would never do anything that could get her fired.

Regardless, it's just as nerve-wracking as opening night; maybe even as stressful as tech week. Preston’s hand quivers as it reaches for the doorknob and he forces himself to take a deep, calming breath. It's going to be okay.

He opens the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm going to camp, bitches! which means i won't update this for about a week. but i'll be bored as shit, so i'll probably write a bunch more for this. ciao!


	3. David

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> some say that david is a twink. i call bullshit on that. you think some fucking twink could carry max like a handbag or lift a big ass rock over his head? no, you idiots, he's a twunk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Added a tag, check it out ;)

The moment the doors open, David is bounding across the cabin and engulfing Preston in a bone-crushing hug. Preston rolls his eyes, but allows the hug because he needs this, David needs this, and it's practically impossible to fend off one of David’s hugs.

“Oh my gosh, Preston, are you okay?” David eventually releases Preston, much to his relief. “Why did you run off? That could've been an amazing group bonding session! We were all going to support and comfort you!”

“Maybe you were,” Preston says. David's constant faith in humanity never ceases to astonish. “I just needed to be alone. I'm sorry if I worried you.”

“I completely understand,” David assures him. “But you don't need to worry about any of the other campers. Gwen and I will keep them in line.”

Given Gwen and David’s previous attempts at keeping asshole campers in line, Preston doesn't feel any safer, but he thanks David regardless.

“Just try to stay under the radar for a little while, okay?” David says. His ever-present smile shrinks fractionally. “If you don't bring this up for two or three weeks, it'll all blow over without any consequences.”

“Pardon me?” Preston bristles. “ _I'm_ not the problem. _I_ shouldn't be the one changing their behavior.”

“Yeah, but you won't really be changing anything! You never brought up your orientation before, so it'd be just like that, except you also get the satisfaction of having come out!”

“I'm not going to be talking about my preferences 24/7! I'm not even going to mention it unless it's relevant or someone asks! People are going to be ruthless about this whether I remind them or not.”

“Aw come on, Preston! Don't you have a little more faith in your friends?”

“They are not my friends!” Preston gasps indignantly at the very thought. “They are cruel, classless HEATHENS!”

“But-“

“Leave me to wallow in my pain, David.” Preston gestures at the door.

“You actually need to go to your tent now. It's past curfew, and you want to be well rested for tomorrow's day of fun!” Despite numerous protests, David carries an irritated Preston outside and to his tent. “Sleep tight!”

“Screw you!”

“I support you!”

Preston ties the tent flaps shut to block out David, then looks around the small space. Luckily, Harrison is already asleep. That's one less person to be interrogated by today. Preston flops dramatically on his bed and heaves a sigh. Had coming out been this hard for Neil Patrick Harris? Andrew Rannells? Jenn Colella?

Preston does want to continue cursing actors for not preparing him for this exact situation with these exact people, but David, annoyingly enough, is right about it being time for bed. Preston’s eyelids are drooping and he's starting to get a headache. Reluctantly, he takes off his neck ruff and turns off the lantern. Perhaps tomorrow will be different.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jesus Christ, I added the Cameron Campbell tag! Did you sick fuckers really think I'd write smut or even a non sexual relationship involving a 10-12 year old? That's fucked up; go to the corner and think about what you've done.


	4. Nerris

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> her!! magic nerd girl!!!!! i'm assuming she likes doctor who/game of thrones/all that jazz, since she mentioned the tardis in quartermaster appreciation day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> to be clear, i'm only against abusive, pedophilic, or underage sexual relationships. i'm cool with purely romantic or platonic ships between campers, tho it seems kinda unrealistic to me for 10-12 y/o kids to be v interested in a romantic relationship.

Tomorrow, if not better, is definitely different.

Preston finds himself alone when he wakes up, which means Harrison has either woken up already and left the tent, or made himself disappear. While the latter would be ideal, it's also quite unlikely. So Preston puts his ruff back on and walks over to the main cabin, famished.

For what may or may not be the first time in his life, all eyes are on Preston the moment he enters the room. Under any other circumstances, he would have enjoyed it. As it is, he instead tries to get his bacon and eggs as uneventfully as he can. The stares stop once the others realize he isn't about to throw a glitter bomb or bust out the rainbow flags.

Preston is disconcerted by how strong his relief is when they look away; not by the intensity of his emotions, but by how he feels. Preston always loves attention, whether positive or negative. Although he would have preferred a standing ovation for Romeo and Juliet II: Love Resurrected, at least when they threw tomatoes, they were acknowledging him and his art. Now? Now, they only see him for his sexuality. It was so much better when he was just a pretentious, theatrical asshole to them.

Preston sits next to Nerris, since she seems least likely to hit or pester him. Indeed, she ignores him for most of the meal. He catches a couple of furtive glances from her, but she doesn't speak, and that suits both of them fine.

Alas, all good things must come to an end. Once Nerris finishes her toast and has put her plate away, she is no longer able to push down her curiosity. “So, you're gay now.”

“I was gay before, but yes, I am more open about it now.” Done with the bacon, Preston starts on the eggs.

“Wow, that must suck.”

Preston stabs the eggs with his fork a little harder than he intended. “Come again?”

“Not like that! I-I just mean, the gay characters, they always die,” Nerris backtracks fast, tripping over her words in her haste to explain herself. “Bill Potts, Dumbledore, Charlie-“

“Okay, I understand!” Now that Nerris mentions it, queer characters do die often. Jason, Angel, Whizzer, and Frank are only a handful of gay theatre deaths Preston can recall. At least all of their demises were plot points. “Life isn't a TV show, so I think I'm safe. It's usually lesbians who are killed off anyways.”

“Oh, that is true!” Nerris brightens. “I guess we can't get rid of you that easily.”

“Yes, okay, _goodbye, Nerris_ ,” Preston says, shhoving her farther away from him. She wanders away and leaves Preston alone with his eggs.

He doesn't even finish them before David bursts through the doors, trademark grin plastered across his face and a dead inside Gwen trailing behind. “Gooooooood morning, campers! Who’s ready for baking camp?”

At least some things will never change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dead Lesbian Syndrome, right guys
> 
> Tumblr: hasa-diga-quicheowai or quiches-other-blog


	5. Space Kid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> why am i still so surprised that space kid is white and not blue? it's been ten years i should be over this
> 
> also baking rocks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there are three types of people: introverts, extroverts, and javert. i think we all know which preston is

Baking is not all that it’s cracked up to be. Granted, the only shows Preston can think of about baking are _Sweeney Todd_ and _Waitress_ , neither of which glorify the profession, but he had still dared to hope it'd be a bit more glamorous. But no, everything is on fire, there's flour and butter everywhere, and somehow Platypus is in the oven. David is literally the only person who isn't treating the situation like the train wreck that it is.

Right as Preston is cracking an egg for his batter, Nikki slams into the table, knocking all the ingredients and utensils off of it. She gets the worst of it, with batter coating her and a wooden spoon stuck in her hair. Preston crushes the egg in his fist, which splatters all over them both.

“Whoo! Again!” Nikki charges off to ruin Nurf’s batch of cookies before Preston can even react.

“Dammit!” Preston wipes the egg off of his outfit and examines the mess. Of course the batter is unsalvageable, and the bowl it was in is shattered. So, new ingredients and another spoon and bowl.

David is more than happy to provide Preston with most ingredients. Preston manages to swipe cocoa powder and shortening from Dolph, who has given up actually baking and is decorating Ered’s cake with frosting art. That leaves the bowl and spoon, which are in the supply closet.

“This is ironic,” Preston mutters to himself as he enters the closet. He grabs a short metal spoon and looks around for bowls. Of course, they just have to be in the very back. Preston ventures farther in.

_Hmm, maybe I should grab a cupcake tin while I'm here. Or since I'm starting from scratch, I could make a pie! Just like Jenna or Mrs. Lovett!_

“Hey there, Preston!”

Preston jumps and holds the spoon out in front of like a sword. He cautiously moves towards the voice. “Who's in there?” A blue, almost translucent glow emanates from behind a stack of baking sheets. Preston relaxes. “Ah. Space Kid. What are you doing here?”

“I came for a pan, and then someone locked me in.” Space Kid explains. Preston has no trouble believing this. Campers here are… problematic sometimes. “Why are _you_ in the closet?”

Preston is less than thrilled with that phrasing, but regardless, answers: “Nikki knocked my shit over, so I'm restocking. The door’s open if you care to leave.”

“Okay, thanks!” Space Kid takes some astronaut ice cream out of a bowl and somehow eats it without taking off his helmet before he walks around the baking sheets to the exit.

Preston removes the pie tin and bowl from their shelves and starts following Space Kid toward the entrance, then pauses. “So, no one has realized you're gone?”

“Yep! Or at least no one’s thought to look here.”

There's a loud yell from outside. Preston sets the baking equipment down and sits behind the baking sheets where Space Kid used to be. “Good.”

“Are you gonna stay here?” Space Kid seems a little uncertain at leaving Preston alone in the closet. Luckily, he's not concerned enough to either stay or demand Preston leave.

“Yes. Baking is messy, difficult, and frustrating. Just leave.” And Preston is needing more and more breaks from being around people.

_Crap, am I becoming an introvert?_

“See you later then!” Space Kid runs out while waving his pan. As soon as he's gone, Preston leans forward and shuts the door. Hopefully he'll have more energy for the next activity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @ lissa, that's a really good and funny idea, but i'm still not too into camper ships sorry! besides the age difference between dolph and ered is more than i feel comfortable with when it comes to youngster ships. thank you so much for the suggestion though!


	6. Nurf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "chris, why did you leave me?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how can someone just dislike nurf wtf. same with disliking ered. come on they totally rock

Preston comes out of the closet a little before baking camp ends, since he doesn't want a camp-wide manhunt like what happened to Neil. It's emerges just in time to see the other campers’ creations- Nurf has a beautiful batch of chocolate macadamia nut cookies that he's getting very emotional over, Ered’s cake looks inedible but has badass icing, Nikki filled Space Kid’s helmet with brownie batter, and Neil and Nerris are throwing pies at Harrison. Max and Dolph didn't even bake anything of their own.

Despite the general mayhem, David is ecstatic with everyone's results. Gwen is pilfering Nurf’s cookies.

“Alrighty, kids! Let's head back to the dining hall for lunch, and then you can head to the activities field!” David practically skips away.

Lunch is boring and bland, so instead of eating healthy, everyone takes a few of Nurf’s cookies. Ered and Dolph attempt to eat the cake they collaborated on and within seconds are lying on the floor clutching their stomachs. Gwen gets out the first aid kit and starts patching them up while David hovers and passes her equipment.

Preston watches this with arched eyebrows, then walks over to Nurf to get some cookies. He’s picked up five and is about to walk back over to his seat, but Nurf grabs his wrist. Since Preston has ridiculous noodle arms and Nurf is strong, the spooked theatre nerd is forced to sit down.

“Coming out took guts,” Nurf says gruffly.

Preston stares at him for a solid ten seconds while trying to adjust to this unexpected behavior. “Uhh, yes, I suppose it did.” Preston blinks and shakes his head to clear his mind. “With respect, why are you being so nice?”

“Hey, I might be a bully, but I have morals. Don't fuck with kids about gender, race, weight, religion, disabilities, or sexuality.” Preston reddens a little at the last one.

“So, you aren't going to bully me anymore?” It's almost too good to be true.

“Of course I am, you're a fucking nerd!” Nurf shoves Preston hard enough to make him fall off the bench. Ah, it's not true. That's why. “But I won't use being gay against you. That's low.”

“Hurrah,” Preston squeaks from the ground.

“Besides, I know what it's like to question your sexuality.” Nurf’s eyes glaze over and he mutters something about someone named Chris. Preston stands, wincing, and brushes himself off.

“Well! Thanks for… whatever that was.” Preston once again removes a few cookies from the heaping mound on the plate. He takes a small bite of one. “Ah! This tastes amazing! I love it!!”

Nurf shrugs, but Preston is certain there's a glint of pride in his eyes. “You can have a couple more.”

“Thank you!” Preston takes two more cookies and races to where he usually sits to consume them. Nurf won't harm Preston because he prefers men, but beating him up due to a manic love of theatre is still fair game. It doesn't pay to sit next to someone who may try to strangle you without warning.

But when Preston sees Nurf sitting alone with his macadamia nut and chocolate cookies, a spark of compassion alights in him. Preston gingerly steps over Ered and around Dolph, both of whom are frothing at the mouth, and slides onto the bench next to Nurf.

“What, do you want more cookies?” Nurf scowls at Preston. “You can't have more; the rest are mine.”

“I actually was planning on sitting next to you,” Preston admits. “You look like you'd appreciate some company.”

Nurf snorts to try and conceal that he's touched. It doesn't work well. “That was so gay.”

“Oh, shut up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: *reads my own writing* ok, this is good! I think I got all the characters right, and the plot/setting is on point!  
> Me: *reads a much better fic*  
> Me: *sobbing* my writing is shit, everyone's ooc, none of the plot makes sense, these descriptions sound nothing like camp campbell, i can't fucking write,,delete me


	7. Max

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> wowzers, episode 9 gave me ideas and a perfect way to tie in a bunch of characters. and also destroyed the friendship i was hoping to set up between nurf and preston but whatever
> 
> some spoilers for season 2 episode 9 in this chapter. hopefully not too much but if you're trying to stay completely spoiler free, don't read yet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> characters i'm super gay for: bonquisha and that cute waitress
> 
> characters with no plausible way of fitting into the story: bonquisha and that cute waitress
> 
> oh yeah and i'm gay for gwen too love her

The rest of the day is uneventful, and then comes the weekend.

In one short Saturday, Preston decides that trying to be Nurf’s friend is a shitty idea, and that maybe love is actually really painful and _way_ overrated.

The following Monday, he's in a bit of a panic, since wearing sunglasses for three days straight would be a fashion curse and raise suspicion, but he doesn't really see any other option. The whole egg fiasco may be over, but he still doesn't want anyone to find out and make a big deal.

_Maybe faking illness is the best idea?_ Preston is examining his black eye in the reflection of the sunglasses when, unnoticed, Max enters the tent.

“I was so fucking right!” Max exclaims. Preston drops his shades in surprise and scrambles to pick them up, trying to hide his face. “Are you still trying to hide it? Christ, you were begging for help a couple of days ago! What's wrong with you?”

Preston finally grabs the glasses and leans back, not bothering to shield his face. Max clearly can't be fooled. “I had to be around him all day, and he was hurting me. Of course I asked for help! Now, since I can just avoid him, I'd rather not let this be blown out of proportion, okay?”

“It was just eggs, I don't get why everyone was obsessing over it.” Max takes a long look at Preston's injuries, then shakes his head. “I get why you don't want David seeing this, so I'm gonna help you out.”

“Wait, why are you helping me? You don't even like me! Why did you come into my tent?”

“I was looking for Harrison. Nikki's with him and I need her. Now, do you want my help or not?” Max starts walking back to the exit.

“I do, I do! I just want to know why,” Preston says, hastily springing to his feet. He's disgusted by how pathetic his voice is.

“I know how to hide wounds, and I get why you want to. Plus, I don't need David on my ass about all this.” Max is almost out of the tent by now. “I'm gonna get you some ice, and then we can actually hide that.”

“Oh! Ok.” Preston hasn't put ice on either bruise yet. In hindsight, that's an idiot move. “I'll be here.”

It's five long minutes waiting for Max to come back with the ice. Maybe he won't come back. Maybe he was just fucking with Preston, or worse, is going to tell David and Gwen. Maybe-

“I'm back.” Max's flat announcement stops Preston's scared train of thought. Max throws the bag of ice at Preston. It lands right next to him on the cot. “Put that on your bruises, and then I'll tell you how to cover them up.”

Preston applies the ice, unable to hold back a small sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

“You'll need concealer and foundation to cover that shit up. You can't use mine, since you're like twenty shades lighter than me. But, I know where you can get some.”

“Where? And why do you have your own foundation and concealer?”

Max ignores the second question and hands Preston a map. “Follow this. When you get there, tell them why you need the makeup. DO NOT mention that you're gay unless absolutely necessary.” Max is halfway out of the tent now. “And you fucking owe me, twink.”

“Wait! Who's “them”? Why can't I tell them I'm gay?” Preston calls, but he's gone. Preston sighs and takes the ice off so he can put on the shades. The map is a little darker when he looks at it now, but it's worth it if none of the other campers see his black eye. Hopefully they won't see him at all, given that he's sneaking out, but better safe than sorry.

However, only Ered sees Preston, and her only comment on his sunglasses is: “Cool.” Thank God for oblivious cool kids.

Once Camp Campbell is out of sight, Preston takes off the glasses and squints at the map. _It should be just around this corner…_

He steps around the corner into paradise.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> preston is a twink confirmed
> 
> take a wild fuckin guess as to why max has concealer and foundation. i dare you


	8. The Flower Scouts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is a long chapter get ready 
> 
> also straight girls (you know who you are) don't do this

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guys, preston isn't into all those modern musicals. of course he knows them all, but his heart lies with rogers & hammerstein, with sondheim, with the classics. and that's just musicals! "goodplay"? he fuckin loves plays. he's not a musical theatre kid, he's a theatre kid, leaning heavily towards plays. he loves classical theatre like shakespeare and sound of music ok. not be more chill or hamilton or that shit.

Preston tries to keep his guard up while he wanders through the shining, pristine grounds, but what could possibly be wrong with this place? It's a definite change from Camp Campbell. A good change.

Up head, he sees a few girls in matching outfits. _That must be the “them” Max was talking about! Ah, it's all coming together!_

“Excuse me? Hello!” Preston calls to the girls, who turn around in perfect unison. God, this is straight out of _Heathers_. “I absolutely love your camp! It's so gorgeous!”

“Who are you?” The one in the center asks, hands on her hips. While the stance and question aren't exactly hostile, it's certainly not friendly.

“Wow, what happened to _you_?” Now it's the blonde one. Her eye is also injured. A kindred spirit.

“Ah, my name is Preston, and it's kind of a long story.” Preston fiddles with his shirt. He can feel the black girl with the blue hair judging his fashion choices harshly. No one appreciates Shakespeare these days. “I was hoping I could borrow some concealer and foundation?”

“I'm Sasha, and this is Tabii and Erin.” Sasha gestures to each of her friends.

“With two I’s!” Tabii interjects. Sasha and Erin glare at her. “Sorry…”

“Anyways, tell us everything and we'll consider lending you some.” This seems unfair and bitchy to Preston (classic _Heathers_ ), but what other choice does he have? There's always the doorknob story, but that sounded fake even to himself when he told it. So, he begins.

“Well, there's this platypus at my camp, and she laid some eggs, so the we were all split into pairs and had to take care of one.” Preston tells the whole sob story (though he excludes the parts with Cameron, since that's all very fishy and may potentially get him killed if he repeats it) and ends with Muack eating her child. The Flower Scouts are disgusted by that detail.

“Waaait, who's Nurf?” Erin says. “What's his damage?”

“I guess he was technically my boyfriend for the day?” Preston shrugs. “I guess-“

He stops in the middle of his explanation for Nurf’s appalling behavior when he notices the girls staring at him. Max’s words come rushing back to him.

_DO NOT mention that you're gay unless absolutely necessary._

Is having a boyfriend gay, even if he's only in a relationship with you for a few hours? That sounds gay even to Preston.

“So, are you, like, gay?” Sasha finally breaks the ice. Preston doesn't see any way out. There's no way they'd believe him if he said no.

“Well, yes, I am. I also was not dating Nurf in any way. Boyfriend is a strong word, right?” It's clear that none of the Flower Scouts care if Preston was dating Nurf, but he can't stop rambling.

“Oh my god, I've always wanted a gay best friend!” Tabii interrupts Preston's stream of words by launching herself over to and linking arms with him. “We can talk about boys together and have spa days and gossip and do each other's nails!”

“Ooh, gays.” Erin is almost swooning.

“Haha, yes, totally!” Preston smiles down at Tabii, humoring her. _I. Would rather. DIE._

“Tabii! Erin! Please.” Sasha sashays up to Preston, a sickening sweet grin on her face. “We'll help you out, if you do some things for us too.”

“O-of course!” Preston detaches himself from Tabii’s grip with some difficulty. “I'd be thrilled to!”

“Fabulous! Let's put some concealer on that eye, shall we?”

Preston follows the trio to an extravagant spa, wondering what in the hell he’s gotten into.

***

It's a good thing that Tabii is as pale as Preston and also screwed up her eye, because that means she has tons of extra concealer and foundation in exactly his shade. She demonstrates self-application while Erin puts some over Preston's bruises and Sasha offers helpful tips and suggestions. They give him a gift bag full of not only foundation and concealer, but also mascara, eyeliner, blush, and face masks.

It's a nice gesture. Too nice.

“Alright Preston, now comes the fun part!” Sasha slips her hand in his and points to a building nearby. “Makeover time!”

“What?”

It's even worse than it sounds. The girls replace his beloved renaissance inspired clothing with a white dress shirt with a pink sweater tied around his neck and pink slacks, then take him to a salon and refashion his hairstyle, topping it all off with a pink and white beret. That detail was Erin’s idea.

Preston has no time to recover before he's whisked away to a café, where iced coconut milk mocha macchiatos are ordered for the group. It's a delicious spot of calm in the storm, but after a few sips, it's on to gossiping about boys, about clothes, about Nikki, about Neil, about literally anything. Anything except theatre, one of the only gay stereotypes he actually falls into  

Then onto Sasha, Erin, and Tabii’s shared bungalow where Beyoncé and Taylor Swift are blasted, and true to her word, Tabii insists on a nail painting train. Sasha paints Erin’s nails, who does Tabii’s, who does Preston's, who does Sasha’s. Preston manages to shove one of Erin’s hair straighteners and Sasha’s curling irons into the bag with his old clothes in it. Hopefully he can retire his old hairdo with them.

Finally, as the afternoon turns to evening, Preston is released. Sasha makes him promise to come back soon, Tabii gives him a sparkly pink and white eye patch, and he and Erin kiss each other on both cheeks. The Flower Scouts see Preston off cheerfully and wave until he's out of sight.

When he gets back to camp, Max takes one looks and bursts out laughing. “Oh my fucking god, I can't believe you were actually stupid enough to tell them! You idiot!” He can barely breathe through the wheezing.

Preston, less amused, wordlessly walks across the campground to Gwen’s cabin. He knows that everyone can see him in his sad, ridiculous state. He wonders if hiding a couple of bruises was really worth all this.

As soon as Gwen opens the door he runs inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think that preston would totally get a bob when he's older. like that one that winona ryder had or velma kelly's from chicago


	9. Gwen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i fucking love gwen 
> 
> also, she/other campers did not traumatize max by telling the other campers/laughing at his teddy bear. he looked annoyed at best. don't hate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> p: why is preston the center of your fic 
> 
> me, a lesbian theatre kid who's v emotional and dramatic: lmao idk,, not like i'm. projecting onto him. or relate to him. that's ridiculous

Gwen stares at Preston for a few minutes, though not because she's confused as to why one of the children under her care ran into her cabin. She just seems pissed at that. No, it's the confused gaze of someone meeting a stranger. Did the Flower Scouts really change his appearance that much?

“Preston?” She says at last, but with no confidence in her assumption. “Is that you?”

“Yes! Help me!” He pulls the curling iron, straightener, and his old clothes out of the bag.

“What the hell happened to you?” Gwen, curious, rifles through the rest of the bag’s contents. “Where'd you get all this?”

“Oh, it's horrible! I went to the Flower Scouts’ camp, and the moment they found out I'm gay, they started obsessing over it! LOOK WHAT THEY DID TO ME!” Preston takes the concealer and foundation from the bag. It's way too light for Gwen anyways. “You can keep all that; I neither need nor want it.”

“Ooh, nice!” Gwen examines the face masks. “This is high quality shit.”

“Uh huh.” Preston collapses onto the bed.

“So, why'd you come in here?” Gwen tosses the masks back into the bag and crosses her arms.

“I need you to fix me! I can't live like this!”

“Yeah? What's in it for me?”

“A bag full of face masks, makeup, and _People_ and _Lifestyle_ magazines.” Preston deadpans, unsure of how Gwen hasn't figured this out. "Plus it's kind of your job?"

“Oh my god, the Kardashians!” Gwen yanks a magazine out and flips through it. “And it's this month’s issue! You got a deal.”

“Great! Let's get me back to normal now.” Gwen doesn't look up from her article. “Now! Gwen!”

“Okay, okay!” She puts the magazine on the dresser. “Follow me.”

Gwen leads Preston to a shitty bathroom with a cracked mirror and one charging outlet. She plugs the irons into it and starts brushing Preston's hair. “Full disclosure, I have no clue what I'm doing.”

“I swear to god, if you screw this up, you will never see those trashy magazines again!” Preston looks at his reflection in the mirror. This is a bad idea.

“Don't threaten me, punk,” Gwen growls, placing a towel on Preston's shoulders. “You're the one who went to a liberal arts major for hairstyling.”

“Just fix it!” Preston closes his eyes as Gwen works. He can't bear to look upon himself, to see what he's become.

Around twenty minutes later, the towel is removed. “Done,” Gwen says.

Preston shakily opens his eyes. His hair isn't quite what it used to be, but all that's needed to fix that is some gel and hairspray. “This is so much better! I love it!”

“Thank the fucking lord. So, do I get my swag now?”

“Not quite yet.” He rummages through the hair care products, ignoring Gwen’s “I'm gonna fucking kill someone” groan. After he finds the gel and hairspray and has used them to secure his locks, Preston directs Gwen to the door. “I'm gonna change into my normal clothes, and you can have your reward.”

“Aw hell yeah!” Gwen is immediately sucked into the world of Jenner. Preston is back to his old self. He can almost pretend nothing ever happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> school starts in like two days kill me


	10. Nikki

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> whomst else is gay and has no idea how to make new friends on this fine evening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> school has begun, so idk when this will update or how much time i'll have to write. but this will continue and finish don't worry

A few days later, Preston barely even remembers the whole ordeal. Camp life moves too fast for tragedy to take effect. Or, in this case, preppy girls who fetishize gay men.

So Preston is definitely not expecting anyone to bother him while he scribbles Shakespeare fanfiction- I mean play ideas. He's definitely not expecting Nikki in particular to bug him. She usually hangs out with Max and Neil or stalks Ered. In fact, he doubts they've ever spoken two words to each other.

And yet here Nikki is, bugging him.

“Hey, what does LGBTQ stand for? What are you writing?” Preston tries to ignore the flood of questions and leans forward so his paper is hidden from Nikki. “Do you think David is gay? Ooh, what if he only paired you and Nurf together because you're both gay? Actually, how do you know you're gay if you've never kissed a boy? Are y-“

Frustrated, Preston storms upstage to escape her. “Lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, queer, none of your goddamn business, absolutely not, he paired us because we were standing next to each other- that had better be why he paired us, and how do you know you're straight if you've never kissed a boy?”

It takes Nikki less than a second to process and sort out his responses, and then she's scampering after him again. “I know I'm straight because, uh…” she trails off and stares at the ground.

“Because?” Preston prompts smugly.

“OH MY GOD, I MIGHT NOT BE STRAIGHT!” Without warning or a farewell, Nikki charges offstage and towards Extreme Sports Camp. In the distance, Preston hears her scream, “ERED! YOU HAVE TO KISS ME SO I KNOW IF I’M GAY!”, and a surprised but still super cool shout from Ered.

However, he chalks it up to Nikki being Nikki and forgets the incident, instead choosing to concentrate on writing a musical adaptation of King Lear. _What rhymes with Margaret?_

Preston has just decided that Margaret is way too hard to rhyme with and that the name would only appear in the spoken scenes when he notices that it's quiet. Too quiet. No one has harassed him in nearly ten minutes. No tomatoes thrown, none of his scripts torn up, no irritating campers at all. Not that Preston is complaining, mind you, but it's certainly unnerving. He interprets it as a blessing from the universe and continues his attempts at songwriting.

Five minutes later, Preston hears yells and chaos. That's about right, he thinks, and tries to think of compelling lyrics. But now the screeches are coming closer, and closer, until the crowd, led by Nikki, is standing right in front of the stage and making it impossible to concentrate.

“What the HELL are you DOING?” Preston glares down at them. Are they all going to collaborate on crushing his aspirations? He must admit, it’s creative.

“We're finding out if we're gay or not,” says Nikki. “See?” She pulls Ered down so their faces are level and leans in for a kiss.

“Whoa, sorry dudes, but I'm taken. Besides, like, everyone is attracted to me. It's just not fair.” Ered prys Nikki off of her and stands to the side. “I'll just watch, ‘kay?”

“But- but how will I know if I'm gay or not?” Nikki looks around, lost.

“Kiss magic girl or something. You should also, like, kiss a boy in case you're straight.” At this point, Preston is pretty sure Ered just wants to play god and ship/mess with the campers. Which is fine, he does so all the time, but it's less fun when he's one of the campers she's screwing with.

“Ooh, that's such a cool idea, Ered!” Nikki turns to Nerris, who looks confused and frightened, with a gleam in her eye. This has no possible good ending.

“Hold on.” Preston whips his head around to watch Ered. Perhaps she realized the power she holds and will yield it wisely. “You totally need to make a line, and then whoever’s up will just choose a girl and a boy to kiss from that line. And like, if you've already kissed either a boy or a girl, you don't have to do it again unless you want to.” Or maybe she'll abuse her authority. That works.

“Alright! Everyone in line, now!” Nikki shoves the others in place. “Neil, I see you sneaking off! Get back here!”

“You too, drama kid.” Preston jumps. He didn't even hear Ered come onstage. God, she'd have been so good in his play. She drags him over to the line, and though Preston wants to resist, he can't argue with Ered. She's just too cool.

“Okay, here's the deal: I'm gonna kiss two of you losers, and then someone else is gonna, etcetera etcetera!” Nikki barks as she paces in front of the queue. “Questions?”

“Yeah, why are you putting this bullshit on us?” Max, as usual, is the voice of reason. “I know I like boobs, I don't need or want to kiss Neil to confirm that!”

“Have you ever seen a boob? No? Then how do you know if you're attracted to them?” Nikki doesn't give Max time to answer before she skips over to a nervous Nerris and starts talking again. “Now let's do this!”

Nerris steps back. “Uh, Nikki, I don't really want to do this.”

“Yeah, none of us do!” Neil agrees. “We all know how we feel, don't involve us in this shit just because you're confused!”

Nikki looks less ready to kiss and more to kill. She's grabbed Nerris’s wrist and trapped the sorceress in place, despite the charms and spells Nerris attempts to cast. “This is the only way to find out for sure, whether you like it or not! And this was all Preston’s idea!”

“What? No it was not! When the hell did I say to kiss everyone in the camp?” Preston yells as the judgmental eyes of the pissed children turn to stare at him.

“You said I couldn't know if I was straight if I've never kissed a boy!”

“That was sarcasm! You weren't meant to take it literally! It's something gay people say as a retort to heteros saying we can't know for sure or are too young or something!”

“I'm just an impressionable kid! I don't know if you're being sarcastic! This is your fault!” Nikki releases Nerris, who charges to her castle the moment she is let go of. Ered looks disappointed that her ship didn't sail, but equally pleased by everyone turning on Preston, the bitch.

“Kids! What's going on here?” As if things cannot get worse, David appears, confused but stern.

“Preston tricked Nikki into starting a sex ring with Ered,” Max says.

“THAT IS NOT WHAT HAPPENED!” Preston’s protests are drowned out by David berating and assigning chores to him, Ered, and Nikki (but mostly Preston).

"This camp freaking sucks."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: doesn't update for three weeks and then churns out a chapter that goes against everything i've said about shipping campers without rereading or editing the chapter
> 
> to be clear, i still don't ship anyone. just thought this'd be fun


	11. Ered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> when ur gay for badass girls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gasp! another chapter after all this time? what cryptid is this?

“Holy Jesus god, whose idea was this?” Preston tears through the woods. Only half the campers accompany him: Harrison, Ered, Max, Nikki, and himself.

“The only person idiotic enough to actually think this is fun!” Max yells. Behind them, a flash grenade slams into the ground. Preston squeezes his eyes shut and ducks behind a tree. He hears a yell and peers out, blinking. Harrison lies on the leaves, blinded.

“Harrison, get up!” Nikki nudges him with her foot. When he doesn't respond, she turns to the rest, terrified. “We've gotta keep moving, but we can't let them find him.”

Ered grasps Harrison’s arms, her eyes set on one tree. “We'll hide him. Max, you and me are gonna pick him up and hide him in that tree on the count of three. One, two…”

A war cry sounds through the woods, and figures carrying sharpened sticks and knives burst through the trees. Ered and Max drop Harrison like a hot baking pan.

“Shit, they found us! Scatter!” Max grabs Nikki’s arm and lets her, with her superior speed and strength, drag them both away.

Preston whips back behind his tree, heart pounding. From the corner of his eye, he sees Ered lift Harrison above her head like a ragdoll, then hurl him into the lake. The shadowy figures, who were about to converge on her, snarl and switch targets. Before he can react, Ered is standing beside Preston.

“Let's blow this town.” She flips her shades on.

Preston can only stare and tremble slightly. “Huh?”

Ered rolls her eyes. “Follow me, Shakespeare groupie.”

Preston is too intimidated to protest as Ered leads him deeper and deeper into the woods. Although it's midday, light dims and fungus creeps up on Preston. A rat that he is certain had an extra few legs scurries by.

“I fear Max could phrase it better, but this is where teens die in the plays! Especially ones like you.” Preston has never walked this close to anyone in his life, but after seeing the rat, he doesn't see many other options.

“Relax. This is just where I keep the really good shit. Also a Gucci hiding spot.” Ered pulls back a moss curtain and ducks through. Preston follows and catches his breath. Inside is a mini oasis: a phone with speakers, a portable charger, snacks, and all of Ered’s sports equipment. “All powered by the Flower Scout hotspot that Max’s bitches forgot about.”

“This is brilliant! I love it!” Preston spins around in awe. “How has the QM not found it?”

“Bribery.” Ered scrolls through her phone’s music and taps an album. Preston is prepared for heavy metal- after all, Ered’s house, Ered’s rules.

After a few chords, he starts in surprised recognition. “Is this American Idiot? By Green Day?”

“Totally,” Ered says. She leans against a rock covered by a blanket and crunches an apple.

“Oh my god, thank you for playing something for both of us! Broadway and punk are more similar than some people think, right?” Preston gingerly sits down. Even the ground in this spot isn't as mushy.

“What?” Preston quickly realizes from Ered’s reply that she had no fucking clue American Idiot is a musical.

“Ah, nothing! How can you stay here? Even though it's super cushy, it's also in the middle of the FOREST where there are BEARS and creepy HOWLING!” Preston glances outside of the tiny cove, halfway expecting a werewolf to burst through and rip him limb from limb.

Ered just looks at him and taps her phone. Howls, growls, a woman's scream, and other spooky sounds emanate from the nearby speakers.

“Oh.” She taps her phone again, and _Jesus of Suburbia_ resumes. “You're a genius.”

“This was actually my girlfriend’s idea. My dads made sure I have a phone, but she gave me the other crap and helped me make this.”

“She helped you make this? How close does she live?” Preston stops idly rolling a skateboard wheel. “Wait, you were gay the whole time? And you didn't help me or anything?”

“I don't need to out myself or my girlfriend helping you. And she's actually on the lake; you've met her.” Ered has no emotion in her voice, only mild boredom, as if she weren't dropping veritable bombs on Preston.

“Who else is on the lake beside us that I've met? It can't be Pirate Camp or the church one- oh my god, that's a conversion camp! -and she can't be a Wood Scout.” Visions of iced caramel coconut milk macchiatos dance through Preston's mind when the answer hits him. “You're dating a Flower Scout!”

“Bingo.” Ered is barely paying attention, but Preston is too invested in the mystery to care.

“I've only met Sasha, Erin, and Tabbbii, so it's one of them. Tabbii is obsessed with Neil. But Sasha and Erin, it could be either! Sasha is a total hardass, but Erin has dyed hair, and-“

“It's Erin,” Ered interrupts.

“Dammit! My investigation! How'd you know I met the Flower Scouts?” Preston spends only a moment mourning this part of his detective work, already ready to switch to the next interrogation.

“Erin and me tell each other everything. She said you stopped by.” Ered shrugs.

“What'd else she say?” Preston knows he misinterpreted Erin’s excitement at meeting another queer person as fetishizing him, but he's still pissed.

“Nothing about you, but she and her squad started a meth ring and got mixed up with the Mexican drug cartel. She had no idea before I explained, it's so cute.”

“What?!” Preston exclaims, but Ered slaps a hand over his mouth before he can continue. She hits mute on the speakers. Silence falls for a moment.

Then a shriek, and Ered’s slice of paradise is invaded.

“Run!” Ered yells.

She picks up a skateboard and slams it against the head of the man reaching for her. He staggers, and she kicks him in the balls. He collapses, and a second man locks his arms around her legs to lock her in place while a third holds up a baseball bat covered in nails. Ered waits for him to draw closer, than grabs his arm and flips him above her head. He slams into the one attached to her legs.

The baseball bat goes flying. Preston tracks its progress. It soars over his head and drops a few feet away from him, right into the hands of a fourth man. Preston remembers Ered shouting for him to run. If only he wasn't so captivated by her combat skills!

The man points the bat at Preston and walks forward. Preston backs into a tree and tilts his head away from the bat pressed close to his neck. An acne covered face looms into view.

“Gotcha,” says Pikeman, and he pins Preston to the tree with an arm, then hurls the bat at Ered. She looks up from beating Jermy into the ground. Her eyes widen and she hits the ground. The bat passes over her head and cracks against a stone, shattering it. Snake and Petrol jump on top of her before she can stand again.

“Bring her! We march to the dining hall,” Pikeman commands. He shifts his vice-like grip on Preston to his upper arm. Petrol pushes Ered towards the group roughly, and they start walking. Preston can't help but notice her wrists are tied.

“Sorry, I should've run,” he whispers. Of course, Preston can't whisper quietly and Snake stabs him with a stick and tells him to shut up. Ered glares, and Preston feels distinctly unforgiven for the rest of the silent walk.

“God dammit!” is the first thing Preston hears once he reaches the hall, unsurprisingly from Max.

Pikeman sneers at David. “We win. One camper of your choosing is ours! You get one minute to decide who.”

As soon as the minute starts, chaos ensues. Neil, Space Kid, and Nerris are crying. Harrison, still half blind, is even more panicked. Max is screaming angrily, and Nikki is screaming for fun.

“Get rid of Dolph! No one here likes him!” Preston can't disagree with Neil.

“Oh sure, send fucking Hitler to a military camp! Send Nurf away!” Max barks. Nurf looks mortally wounded.

“No, we want to reform him, not encourage violence!” David sounds genuine, but the rest of the campers seem only to accept this because the thought of an even more vicious Nurf scares them.

Gwen raises her hands. “Okay, let's be rational here. They won't take girls, so Ered, Nikki, and Nerris are safe. We don't wanna ruin Nurf or Dolph, and we don't wanna be responsible for a weak camper’s death. So that leaves, well.”

“Fuck no!” Max snaps. His glare is enough to deter all but Gwen. “Rationally, we should send someone we can get back. So, do they ban any types of people?”

“Hey, you might be onto something.” Gwen pulls out a Wood Scout rulebook and starts rifling through. “I stole this while Pikeman was coming onto me. Let's see, and… got it! No women, no Native Americans- wow, makes Pikeman hitting on me even creepier, and no homosexuals.”

All eyes fall on Preston. He swallows. “Shit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> headcanoning gwen as native american is hard when remembering how she put up with david's racist thing from season one finale but whatever

**Author's Note:**

> Why,..,,., are there so many pedophilic/underage fics…wHY
> 
> Comments and kudos appreciated!


End file.
